


Ever Since February {l.s}

by thelionesshunts28



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band), liam payne - Fandom, niall horan - Fandom, zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, One Direction Reunion, Quote: They kind of share that really (One Direction), larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelionesshunts28/pseuds/thelionesshunts28
Summary: One Direction reunion fan fiction~Throughout the years: Larry Stylinson.9/28/13- Married, even if not officially.7/20/17-broken up.2017-2018- Flings, ending in rebroken hearts and pleads not to go. Eventually stopped.3/13/19 Louis shows up on Harry's doorstep, heartbroken and scared.March-January 2019 & 2020: In love.January-May 2020: Heartbroken and depressed after breaking up, because of management.May 23: they get a call from Simon Cowell.July 23: One Direction Reunion.~~~~~(Some of the dates have proof, others I chose bc there was only proof for the year.)(Coronavirus/basically all of 2020 doesn't happen)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. .PROLOGUE.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE DONT STEAL MY WORK!!!!!  
> Thank you :)  
> 

A buzzing on the kitchen counter from his phone vibrating is painful in Louis' morning ears, and he groans and throws his arm to hopefully land on it, which thankfully it does. He brings it to his face, taking a second to focus before answering the call.

"He--"

"Louis it's Simon."

Like that was supposed to improve his mood. He groans again. "Why are you calling me at this hour do you even know what--"

"Yes, Louis I know what time it is I have eyes."

But not a brain, Louis thought. And that's what improved his mood.

"Listen, I know I'm calling on such short notice, but we have decided to bring back One Direction." Way to drop a bomb, although Simon was never one to sugarcoat.

That made Louis wince.

He's technically known since February that Simon wanted the band back together, as did Harry, but not any of the other boys.

At the memory of February Louis' eyes darken, as does his mood. "No."

Simon sighs. "Listen it won't be a repeat of last time I offered."

Offered. Louis almost scoffed.

"This time you and Harry aren't together, so there won't be any problems."

Ouch.

"And also unlike last time this is not negotiable. You're technically still under my juridiction, the only piece separating from this making a reality is your consent."

Louis decides to get all the info he can before making a decision. "When?"

"5 weeks."

"Five weeks!" he exclaims. 5 weeks? That's not enough time! he has to get ready and prepare songs and meet everyone, which brings him to the subject of the boys.

"Have the boys agreed?"

And by the boys, he meant Harry. Liam and Niall would surely agree, he'd talked with them plenty over the hiatus and even though none of them ever spoke it, they were all open to a reunion. And Zayn had reconnected with the trio, Louis, Niall, and Liam, could even be labelled as friends again. But reuniting One Direction? That's a whole other subject that needs to be touched upon.

"Yes, I've already called them all. They've all said yes with varying degrees of excitement and dread."

He frowned and let go of his tea to fold his arms, leaning back in his chair. That was a slight surprise. "Even Zayn?"

"Yes, even Zayne," Simon snapped. "Everyone means everyone surely you can understand English."

Rude.

Now that Simon has gotten feisty, Louis is inclined to be vague just to piss him off. "Hm. I didn't think he'd agree to it."

Louis takes a sip and thinks about Zayn agreeing to come back. He hasn't seen the boys for so long -only the texts with Niall and Liam-, and they've all had great success with their solo careers as artists, so who says they'll stay? And then there's the awkwardness between him and Harry... "Did Harry agree also?" He was too preoccupied with the image of Harry's face when he saw him -probably disappointment or disgust- that he didn't even get the chance to relish how much Simon would have wanted to chop his balls off at the moment.

"Yes all of them means all of them Harry Zayne Niall and Liam they've all agreed I don't want to repeat myself again! now are going to keep asking silly questions or will you answer so it is confirmed?" Louis' smile dropped at Simon's tone. "This wait has been long enough, the fans are asking when you'll be back and if we don't people will lose interest, and if that happens then that's on you for not accepting. So yes, or no."

"I'll have to think about it."

The line was dead quiet for a few seconds, and Louis was starting to think Simon hung up on him. "You don't have time to think about it," Simon said, his voice calmer, "What could go so wrong with accepting? We will be hauling in hundreds of thousands, it will be on every media outlet in the country, in the world. The fans will be sobbing in joy. You weren't doing very well on your own, and this way people will find One Direction and leaf off to your solo songs. Do I need to keep going or will you stop being difficult and give an answer?"

The thing was Louis wasn't hesitating because of the uncertainty with money or fans- That would be a guarantee. It was facing the curly-haired boy from Cheshire. It was looking him in those soft forest moss eyes and pretending he was fine, that he hadn't fallen apart without him. It was acting normally and friendly on stage and in the interviews, or wherever the public could observe them, and that would be so fucking difficult. He and Harry had broken each other, and now they were expected to come out like a solid piece of glass.

Simon said Harry agreed, and that is what was fiddling with Louis' mind. Was he excited to have a reunion? Was he reluctant? Was he thinking about Louis? Did he fear facing him as much as Louis did to the other? Simon mentioned some answered with dread, could that have been Harry, or was Simon just making a point.

What Simon said was true, he wasn't having all that much luck as a solo artist. He loses listeners by the day, and Simon reminded him of it, sending comparing graphs ever month. The more he was producing his own music, the more he started to hate himself, and punish himself, and scold his work for sucking so bad and sounding like a pile of trash.

When he brought it up with Lottie, the sister he talked to about almost everything, she explained over and over his songs were the greatest music she'd ever listen to, and all those fans that chanted his name and screamed out the lyrics during his concerts, or fell asleep listening to his songs existed, and supported him almost as much as she did.

Niall, Liam, Zayn, and Harry had all agreed, leaving Louis as the last to know, like usual. He'd seem like such an ass if he declined, like he kind of wanted to, and he had to admit, getting back together with Niall and Liam, being a band again with the other four did seem pretty exciting.

He was still terrified.

"Well?" Simon snapped.

Louis decided to give it a chance. "If I agree, I will be allowed to back out any time I want. Yes?"

"We will talk about the terms once you get there," Simon growled.

"Yes?" Louis asked again, persistent.

"Yeah, now will you agree? Come to join One Direction again?"

And that last line is what spiked his heart rate. He was really going to do this. Reunite One Direction at last. See Harry again. Holy shit.Despite his even, slightly irritated tone, he was internally panicking. "Yes, fine, okay, sure, sí, oui--"

"I will call you when it's time to leave, you're leaving in four days." Louis grinned when Simon got pissed, but his amusement fell at Simon's words.

"Four days! How--" Click. Simon ended it.

"Fucking..." and then many swear words we will not say, since this is a family show.

Once he got his anger out, most of it at least, he flopped onto his bed, feeling surprised he ended up in his room. He must have moved here subconsciously. Huh.

Pulling out his phone, Louis started to feel the grip of anxiety in his chest and breaths quicken. His hand runs instinctively to his cheek, and as he dialed Lottie's number, his thumb was shaking. How could it not? He was nervous. Terrified. He was ready to run, or call the whole thing off. The only thing that made him stop from calling Simon back, right then, right there, was the click of his phone and Lottie's voice saying, "Louis? What's up, it's like 7 in the morning."

He squeezed his eyes shut as he spoke. "Simon called, he says One Direction are getting back together I'm not ready Lottie, I can't face him -Face them- it's just- I don't think I can do this--"

"Hey hey Louis," She said, "Take a deep breath, make yourself some tea, write in your word spit book or whatever it's called, I'll be there in 20 minutes. Okay?"

"O-Okay," Louis breathed out, trying to listen to his sister's words and feel the flood of relief that washed over him when she said she'd be there soon to help him.

"You'll be okay? Do you need me to stay on the phone?"

"No- I think I can make a tea- a cup of tea, you- thanks a lot, Lottie."

"Alright. I'm going to hang up now, okay? I will be there soon."

Louis exhaled, smiling quickly to no one but the gratitude for his sister. "What would I do without you?"

"Go mad, probably. Although you're halfway there to tell you the truth."

He laughed, sinking into the side of the bed. The anxiety that held his chest hostage was almost nonexistent. "True. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon." Then she clicked off and Louis held his phone to his ear for a few more seconds, feeling suddenly lonely. She's coming over, just hang in there. Make a cup of tea. You can't go wrong with tea. So he kept his phone in his hand, turning his knuckles white from clutching it so hard just in case Lottie called again, or maybe on of the boys.

Boys. Louis stopped midway to the kitchen. His legs were tense and he hesitated, contemplating on whether or not to message or call the boys. His mind was frozen, so all that was really computing was 'Boys, Call, Harry, What What'. After standing in the morning light for a few moments, he decided to wait until Lottie came. She would know what to do. So he placed his phone on the table and started making himself tea.

While the water boiled -Which didn't take long since he made some only 10 minutes before-, he got his sketchbook. He didn't draw in it, usually, and when he did it was something dark like a soul screaming in a ravine or a half-skull and half-butterfly head. He went straight for the marked page that still had his favorite black pen in it, and started jotting down the random words that came into his head. They weren't thought of specifically, but whatever came to his head, whether it was 'Sphynx', 'Noir', or 'Endlessly', it was just words that got etched into the yellow page with black ink. Louis found racing thoughts so annoying and unbearable, and he needed an output. his output used to be Harry, but he's gone now. So he has his word page, or 'word spit book' as Lottie called it. He wrote wherever he had space, adding new letters to the page that is almost completely full.

When he heard the soft bubbling from the kettle, he dropped his pen and poured boiling water into his mug with a stiff hand from clutching the pen. Then he just let his tea sit, and in the meantime, paced his floors, trying to think of what to do with this situation.

He wasn't ready. Four days. Four fucking days. That wasn't enough time, there were so many things to assemble before his departure, like luggage, calling his family, the mental preparation of the public noting every glance, gesture, or atmosphere he and Harry share, it was so stressful. He couldn't look at Harry, but then they'll think they are fighting -which is true, but still- and if he and Harry become friends again which Louis doubts will be possible, the media would pick up on that too-

_You're over-thinking again, shut your mind. Make it shut up._

Louis starts to hum off-tune to a random song, a pained expression on his face as he paced, straining his mind not to think about all the problems he has to face, like Media, Fans, Zayn, Simon, Harry--

Keys jingle in the door.

Lottie.


	2. .CH.1.

Lottie.

He jerks and runs to the door, where Lottie steps in, her head down, dressed in sweatpants and a green T-Shirt that must have been the first thing she grabbed. Louis was quick to pull her into an embrace.

"I got here as fast as I could," She mumbled against his shoulder. He let go and walked stiffly into the kitchen area, glancing back to make sure she was following. "You sounded freaked on the phone, I still don't know what's going on, what's wrong? Something about Simon calling?"

Louis sighed, taking a sip of his tea. "Yeah. Do you want some?" he offers, gesturing towards his mug.

"I'm fine for now." She takes a seat on the stool Louis sat on, while Louis was hovering behind the counter of his kitchen.

"Okay, well Simon called saying One Direction was getting back together--" He starts to explain, but was cut off by Lottie.

"Wait, for a 10-year reunion? Because July 23rd is in a month, Louis."

He was taken aback. _Is_ that what Simon meant? No, he said getting back together, as in the band, as in concerts and fans and songs and new albums. "No... He meant singing. The band is getting back together, Lott, and I'm not ready." For Harry, he wanted to add. But Lottie caught on, without being told.

"So did you say yes?" She asks.

Louis runs a hand through his feathery hair. "Well, Yes... it's just, I need help Lottie, please just tell me how to deal with Harry. Last time we met was when Fizzy..." he clenches his jaw. "We tried to be friends. It didn't work. What do I do."

Lottie, who listened to Louis worry and ask for help quietly, had a lot to say. "Are you over Harry?"

Louis blinked. "What?"

She bit her tongue, approaching the subject hesitantly.

"Do you still love... him?"

Of course he still fucking loved him. Did he? He couldn't. He shouldn't. He and Harry broke up because Louis gave into the pressure of management telling him it was wrong, that him and Harry would never last. And he broke up with him. He made a huge fucking mistake, repeating what management was telling him, that they wouldn't work, it was just a fling, he and Harry couldn't be together. That night ended in tears and broken hearts.

Then in March last year, he was in a bad place. Fizzy had just died, Lottie wasn't responding, and Louis wasn't only depressed; he was scared for his life. Scared he would do something he'd never get the chance to regret.

So one night. One night he showed up.

••••• (flashback) ••••• **Start of the chukno wunko longo mongo flashback**

**_ March 13, 2019, 8: 29 pm, Harry's POV. _ **

_Knock._

Harry jumped at the sudden knock. "PIZZA!" He yells and springs off the couch, kicking off the warm blanket and pausing his movie.

There is no more walking in his house.

There is only sock-sliding.

And that is what Harry does to the door, his rainbow fluffy socks, his favourite, most cherished socks, slide easily along the floor. He has his arms out like he's surfing and when he comes to a stop at the front hall he laughs in glee and victory, knowing that was one of the longest slides he's ever done. His laugh sounds a bit dry. Which is fair, since he hasn't drank in a while. Or moved. Or talked. Or done anything, other than work out to Disney movies.

Ever since his Sunflower left, he didn't have the motivation to do simple things like those.

Before he opens the door, he makes sure he's wearing pants and a shirt, and then wonders why that person knock was so depressing. It was one simple knock. You know, sometimes he wouldn't mind a nice and upbeat knock like in Frozen, since technically he is isolated like Elsa. Maybe he'll write that in his journal later.

Then shakes the thought from his head, because damn it, he's been watching too many goddamn Disney movies.

He sees through the window it's raining, and pretty dark out, so he'd make sure to tip the deliver person extra. After all, he does have more money than he needs, and it'd make that persons day, and when Harry is kind it makes him feel good.

Deciding it's about time he ate, he unlocked the locks and opened the door. "That was a pretty gloomy knock bud you alr..."

Then stops. That isn't a delivery guy.

Louis?

_Louis,_ is what Harry breathes and thinks, and Louis must have heard it, because he lifts his head which was originally bowed. And Harry feels his heart break, because he's been crying, you can tell not just from the hunched shoulders but also the red puffy eyes. He has dark shadows under them, and overall does not look very good. Like he looks great, as always, but not healthy.

Harry recovers from his shock and opens the door further, pulling Louis in and shutting the door, checking to make sure no Paps caught that, becase if they saw Louis coming to his doorstep at 11 pm it would blow up in the news.

When he turns back, Louis' head is still down and he just stares at the floor, water dripping from his slick black hair and black jacket, dripping into a puddle on the floor.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, turning to face him, his ex boyfriend, his friend, someone he hasn't talked to face-to-face in months. And he's changed, Harry can see it. The sharper jawline, the way he stood, a new haircut, buzzed at the sides and some at the top, and so much more, but the one thing that stood out the most is his hunched shoulders and defeated posture.

Harry feels conflicted if whether he should help take off Louis' jacket or go get a towel, or ask the million questions that want to spill out of his mouth, or hug him because of how sad he is, or ki--

_No. We broke up._ Harry reminds himself. It makes his heart ache in a sorrow, gnawing way.

He hasn't seen Louis in person eight months. Every time he sees him it's painful, even though it's been years since they've 'broken up'. There have been weak moments, when Harry would end up on his doorstep, and in the morning they went through the same process of tears and pleading not to go. And every time they would rip away from each other again, it was like another breakup after a long-term relationship. Every time they saw each other, it brought painful memories and _feelings_ to the surface that has to be pushed down.

They can't be together. They can't and never will, be a couple again, be trapped int he others eyes, scream their love for each other at the top of their lungs to the world because they can't.

They just... can't.

Even if the ring on his right hand still ties him to Louis, he knwos they can't be together, and not ebcause they don't want to- if they had a choice, they would've been living together like a happy married couple, dancing in the kitchen, spoiling their dog, singing Disney songs together (Harry might have a slight obsession with Disney movies now- he just felt this personal connection, with the princesses, you know?) and overall spending the rest of their life together in peace. But they are famous, and they have - not homophobic, merely... discouraging... management that were always on the others backs and pressuring them. Plus, all the PR stunts with Eleanor and Taylor didn't help.

After being firm and decisive with himself, Harry came to a conclusion that he went to get Louis a towel. When he came back Louis was still in the same spot, now shivering like a wet chihuahua.

"Here," Harry said as he handed him the white cotton towel.

Louis took it, holding it out for a moment, unsure of what to do with a random towel. Harry has to admit it was pretty stupid on his part. So he helped Louis out of his jacket, hanging it up while Louis used the towel to wipe at his face and hair. Harry averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Louis' voice was croaky, and his breath in was shuddering. He was obviously trying not to cry. Harry was tense, staring at his shoes. What else would he look at? If he looked at Louis he might never look away, like it's happened before in the past.

"Why are you sorry?"

Louis was silent for a few long, long seconds. "I shouldn't be here."

Even though it was the truth, it still stung. _Maybe you shouldn't be here Lou, but I want you to be._ He immediately scolded himself for that.

"Why _are_ you here?" It wasn't aggressive, just curious.

"Fizzy died."

Bang.

The words had a physical blow tied to them.

Fizzy died. Fizzy, Louis' beautiful sister is... dead. ...what?

Harry looked at him now, and saw Louis was starting to cry again, wiping it away with the towel. Harry felt something drop in his stomach. Louis was hurting, Louis was crying, Louis was Louis and Louis was sad.

So Harry hugged him.

And Louis clung on to him for all he was worth. They stood in the doorway, Louis shuddering in his arms while Harry was trying not to cry himself, because fucking hell. He loved Fizzy like his own sister, and even though Louis must be in insurmountable amounts of pain, he was still sad.

After a few minutes, they made their way to the kitchen. Louis sat on one of the red and brown stools, Harry moved behind the counter. They fell into a familiar rhythm. They were so used to each other they predicted the other's moves and understood what a single glance, smile, touch or gesture meant. Although the gestures were usually sign language, it was amazing how well Harry and Louis knew the other and themselves.

Harry waited patiently for Louis to speak -if he did, or wanted to at all-, and while doing so, took in Louis' appearance.

Same lips red, same eyes blue, same white shirt couple more tattoos; Louis was different, though. There was some sort of hopeless way he had carried himself, shoulders slumped and head faced the floor, numb. He can't see Louis' eyes, but if he closes his own, he wonders if they are the same warm ice. If he closes his eyes he can remember what they used to look like. But Harry kept his eyes open, looking directly at Louis. 

Louis was fascinated with the countertop, or that's what it seemed to Harry since he didn't look at the curly-haired one. Louis was trading Harry's green eyes for marble counter, and it stung.

He clearly didn't want to talk. He swallowed nervously- or to keep tears in his eyes- every few seconds. The silence was driving Harry crazy, but he refused to speak. Right as Louis opened his mouth there was a knock on the door, and both of them flinched.

Louis and Harry moved at the same time, and for a moment they just looked at each other, before Harry said "I can get it."

He ran to open the door, running a hand through his hair to calm his nerves. Louis showed up at his door, dropped the bomb that Fizzy died, of course Harry will be on edge and stressed, not to mention fucking miserable from the news about Fizzy. And Louis just showed up -At _his_ door, nonetheless -He could have gone to Liam's or Niall's, but for some reason he ended up at Harry's.

Harry assumes it's because Louis knows and trusts him, and while it's true, it isn't the full truth; he was drawn here, like some sort of magnetic pull, similar to those other times over the years, but this was _properly_ prompted, not just another stupid excuse they made to themselves of how they missed the other, they needed them, it didn't matter. And while that was true, it isn't the same as showing up after a family member _died._

Tugging the curls back with his fingers, he swung the door open, meeting the eyes of one of his security, who would have taken the pizza from the delivery guy, and transported it to Harry. It was a security measure that came with being famous, and Harry was well used to it by now.

He took the box from the man, offering a small smile. "Thank you, sir."

The man nodded. "You're welcome." He said.

Even though Harry had an ex-boyfriend in his kitchen, he still had enough space in his mind to feel bad for the worker. "Sorry about the rain," Harry said, closing the door. He balanced the box on his hip to lock the door, then adjusted the pizza back to it's origional place and when he turned around, Louis was standing in the hall, his eyes looking at Harry's.

It was the first time he'd seen those eyes in months.

And they were still as breathtaking as they were since he'd known Louis.

It took ten seconds for Harry to clear his throat and walk away from the door, brushing past Louis with wide and confused eyes.

"Pizza's here."

Louis dawdles near the entrance to the kitchen, his shoulders still near his ears from being uncomfortable, and shielding himself from grief. His mouth opens and closes five times while Harry's back is turned, his back muscles bunching up while opening the box and Louis assumes he's splitting the pizzas. He finds himself taking a step foreward.

Harry sensed the movement, and turned halfway with a pizza drooping in his hands, looking like the cheese will fall off if he doesn't hold it correctly soon. "Do you want some?" He asks his deep voice, vibrating in Louis' bones.

"Yeah, thanks" _Love._ He had to physically restrain himself by biting his tongue not to let the word slip out. His old habits come baack to bite him in the ass sometimes.

"Well it-it's there, so... You can just take a slice if you want..."

Oh god this was so awkward. Louis was getting an itch in his mind at the weird silence, a reminder of how uncomfortable an awkward this situation was, not to mention the memory of Fizzy smiling is stuck in his brain, and his heart is dying in grief. Louis tries, he tries to push it away, to just _focus on the moment_ , something he is good at through years of practice. He walks into the kitchen, weaving around Harry, who leaned into the counter while Louis grabbed a plate for himself.

There was a freeze in Louis' movements, because he just realized he knew where the plates were. He knew which cupboard, which pile was the right one, how to take it out with the least amount of noise- and that was strangely intimate. He sucked in a breath before pulling away, glancing up to see Harry still looking at him with his soft green eyes and smooth golden skin and curly, handsome hair that was slightly tousled-

"Can we just- watch the telly or something, I don't... I just can't deal with this right now..."

Harry nodded, turning his eyes down. He took a bite of his pizza without saying anything back.

"We can talk tomorrow," Louis said quieter, taking a bite to ease the awkwardness he was feeling, like doing something would help. It did.

Harry nodded again, still keeping his silence. He walked away from the sink, wiping his mouth. He finished his pizza in five bites. Louis however, wasn't even half done, taking tiny nibbles his appetite practically nonexistent.

His gaze trailed after Harry, watching him sit on the couch and pressing play with the remote.

It wasn't ten seconds later that Louis found himself speaking again. "Is that The Little Mermaid you have on?"

Harry looked at him with a guity smile. "I'm bored. Don't judge."

"Never."

Harry had to look away at that, and Louis felt something drop in his stomach. What he said was not... appropriate. He shouldn't have said that.

Louis stayed on his stool, eating the same slice of pizza while having to lean forewards for the TV to be visible. He watched as Ariel swam through the ocean, and one of the famous Disney songs came on. Fuck, he was going to have that stuck in his mind for days.

Harry watched him through the corner of his eye. Louis looked so uncomfortable sitting like that -hands gripping the edges to keep balance, squinted eyes, leaning as far as he can- but at the same time... Harry marvelled at Louis' handsomness. His dark lashes were brought close -One of Harry's favourite things on Louis' face- , his shoulders were slumped but you could see the muscles in his arms all the same, how his mouth was pulled into a half-awkward wince, half-confused line, his tan cheekbones literally reflecting the shine from the ceiling light.

He cought himself staring again, and cleared his throat. "You can sit over here if you'd like. It's an easier view." Of the Television, Harry wanted to add, but left it at that.

Louis looked skeptical. "Okay." He got off the seat slowly, scratching his arm even though it didn't itch.

Harry bit his lip, because was Louis going to sit down beside him? Should he move over? He was disappointed when Louis walked passed him and sat on a comfy chair instead of next to Harry.

The feeling didn't go away even as the movie went on. It was like getting a below-average grade on a test you studied so hard for, waking up in the morning freezing cold because the blanket didn't do it's job, accidentally closing the music tab on your phone.

He wanted Louis' warm body pressed against his own, to wrap his arms around Louis' and hold him, to just touch him, even if it's a brush of knuckles.

It doesn't happen, of course. They have boundaries neither fancied, but new it was important, and passing them would end up in another heartbreak.

Eventually, the movie ended, and they started another. Halfway through the second, Harry looked over and saw Louis passed out in the lounger. Harry's face twitched, the only amount of smile that could show.

Carefully, with deliberate slow movements not to wake up the sleeping boy, he took the fluffy blanket and draped it around Louis' body. It was freezing, and if Louis stayed still for too long, he might get cold.

Harry lied horizontally on the couch, his eyelids feeling heavy. He didn't feel the need to stay awake now that Louis was asleep.

Harry fell asleep shivering, blanketless, and a deteriorating heart.

**....eof...**

"No."


	3. ~ch. 2~

Lottie and Louis spent the next three days packing.

He did get another call from Simon, who explained that their management already had everything set up, hence the short-notice call- the only thing left was for the boys to meet, and practice.

Lottie stayed at Louis' flat, helping him get through the anxiety he had built up, and preparing their departure to the airport the following day. She only knew the basics of why he and Harry split up in February, something about a fight, and management- _that,_ though, she could relate to; She's had her fair share of sit-downs with Simon and explanations that 'Larry Stylinson' (Said with poorly masked disgust) could not become public. It wasn't only Louis that got affected by management ripping the two lovers apart.

Louis called the boys, not including Zayn, and made confirmations, and snapped at Liam when he mentioned Harry. Niall was probably the worst, kept suggesting for him to ring Harry and make amends, or show up to his concert. Louis brushed them both away as ludicrous ideas, and once they said their goodbyes, he flopped onto his bed for the umpteenth time in the last three days.

Should he call Harry? It did seem like the right thing to do... They haven't talked since February 1st, which was almost two months ago. And before that...

He gripped his phone, now directing his frustration at his stress into making rash -but correct- decisions: said decision being ringing his ex-love.

Louis softened with each ring, staring at the picture he has set for Harry in his contacts: Harry is smiling, teeth, dimples and all, holding up a peace-sign with sunglasses pushing the thick curls on his head back the form something resembling a crown. Louis is taking the photo, since he refused to ruin a perfect photo that some would pay billions for- at least, that's what he said. Harry reminded him he was perfect, and convinced Louis to at least let his hand be in the photo while it was taken; hence the small hand attatched to his tattooed arm caressing Harry's face in the picture.

It wasn't an image of Harry that struck Louis' heart the most, it was how Harry wasn't looking at the camera. His green eyes were sparkling at Louis, behind the phone. He just wanted to look at Louis.

"Louis?"

Louis' breath caught. "U-hey, Harry."

It felt so unnatural.

Harry.

There was a slight pause, in which time Louis scolded himself on such a lame greeting, principally since this is the first form of interaction they've shared since February.

"Hi."

Oh dear.

He was stumped in a bush of awkwardness, stranded with Harry Styles, who was not- and most likely would not- supply any hedge cutters.

So Louis resorted to formal speech. Like he was speaking to a faded friend, or distant relative.

"So... how are you?"

".fine."

Louis's brain spasmed. He could tell by the hoarseness in Harry's voice that he was, unquestionably, not ' _okay.'_

It's painful for Louis to comprehend its mostly his fault for all of this. Harry won't forgive him again, and he shouldn't, not really. He deserves so much better. Louis should never have entered Harry's life, just to break it.

He bites down on his tongue as if that would match up to all the horrible things he put Harry through.

Taking a deep breath in, he tries to end the awkward exchange between the two former lovers. band mates. friends.

They are nothing anymore.

"That's good, great yeah... I'm calling because-" No, that seems rude. "Simon told me about the plans in four weeks..."

"And?"

"I accepted," Louis says it hesitantly, waiting for Harry's reaction.

There was another pause. Then, "Okay."

Harry sounded like he was about to hang up, so Louis shouted "Wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Well... Can we be friends? Again? I-I know you might not want to see me, but we have to now, and we can't have any bad blood, you know? So... can we be friends?"

No matter how suggestive Louis sounded over the phone, it matched no part of the real him; asking them to be _friends,_ hearing Harry's voice, knowing Harry wouldn't talk to him unless needed, knowing Harry must hate him.

He bit his lip to reduce the burning in his eyes.

"Okay."

Louis should be happy. He should feel relieved Harry wants to be friends, that he might talk to the older boy and won't totally ignore him. But he isn't feeling any of those; he's experiencing heartbreak's baggage.

"So... friends then..?" Harry asks through the phone.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well because we're going to be friends, do you have any upcoming shows? 'Cause I can get the boys and we can meet you there, or something else. Is that okay?"

"Yeah."

No. A million times no. Even just the thought of _seeing_ Harry makes his stomach churn.

"You know management will be on our backs the whole time, right? This will be tough, Lou."

"I know."

"...I guess I'll see you in three days, then."

"I guess you will."

He didn't know what to say now.

"Well... Bye," Harry said, lacing with awkwardness.

"Bye."

Louis hangs up first.

He can't really process anything that has, or will be happening, it's like his mind is blocking it out. So he just lies down, stuffing earbuds into his ears and falls into a slumber, lyrics sung softly into his ears. The music will protect him. Nothing bad or eventful could happen while the sweet melody is playing.

_'Wherever I go, you bring me home...'_


	4. ~ch. 3~

"Well you look miserable."

Clifford blinked lazily up at Louis from his spot on the kitchen floor.

Of course he didn't answer. He was a dog.

Louis still huffed.

"Rude."

He sighed at himself. He was going mental. It was only a matter of time before he was dissecting tomatoes with craft scissors and asking them to have babies with potatoes so they'd be pomatoes.

He was fully dressed, and Just checking his joggers pockets for his keys and phone, which were there.

After that was done, he turned back to Clifford and sighed once more, sadly.

"I have to go now, sorry bub. Be good, promise?" He said with all sincerity to his dog.

Clifford blinked.

Louis nodded approvingly.

"Good."

———————

The whole airplane experience was shitty.

Going through the machines and having to take off your watch which took _forever_ \- Louis felt grey hairs starting to grow, that's how slow it was.

And then when they make you walk through the entrance metal detector, his muscles were bunched up, expecting a loud siren or beeping noise to go off because somehow he brought a gun with him, and stuck it up his ass.

Then there was a problem with his luggage. His bloody luggage. 

He waited ten minutes for them to realize that he in fact did _not_ have a bomb in his suitcase, and there wasn't a gallon of milk in his carry-on either.

So this day had not started out great.

Once he finally got _on_ the plane, forty minutes later because if you aren't then for _some reason_ they always leave without you, he was feeling like a sack of shit that just got whacked into a wall repeatedly.

For one, he was stressed the entire time. And crabby, lack of sleep addling his mind.

Two, he had to be on the down-low. Don't want a crowd of fans swarming him on the plane, do they.

Three, the cabin pressure changes popped his ears painfully.

He was scrolling through his phone, playing weird games he has downloaded on his phone and texting in the groupchat that Harry never responded in.

The speaker ahead clicked once more, and Louis shut off his phone, knowing this was the main and important one.

"Good morning Hertfordshire, hope you are all having a wonderful morning," A woman's voice says over the speakers, presumably the pilot. "If you haven't flown since 1977, then let's review the basics, shall we?"

That got a few laughs, including Louis'.

She went on to list the instructions off if the seatbelt light is flashing, you cannot get out of your seat, and their ride will expect some turbulence, bumpy spots.

After it was over, Louis put in his earbuds and watched a show from the screen in front of him. Unfortunately, the person who used this before him had it in the kids section, and it took him five minutes to get it out of fucking Moana, if he hears that girls voice one more time he's going to loose his shit. 

At one point one of the two airplane staff, the steward, offered him a hot towel, which he declined. 

_Go away,_ he thought, _and never come back._

He found the towels disturbing. Didn't know why, though.

Two hours later, he was being whisked into a car by his security detail, and once he was in he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, a headache starting to form.

\-------------

Louis wasn't purposely trying to startle Harry by showing up to his performance where the boys were supposed to meet. Yes, Harry had agreed to entertain their first meeting after his concert, but he wasn't sure if it would actually happen, since he was busy performing, and not all the boys had agreed. Yet.

And if Harry was uncomfortable, well, at least he'd be uncomfortable with the rest of the band.

Besides, he did say he'd like to arrange some form of tea-time with the rest of the band, and Louis thought maybe he'd be okay with this.

He did call Simon, and Simon was on board with it; said it would get fans suspicious if they 'accidentally' let it slip somehow that the former One Direction members were at Harry's concert.

He said they could choose how to release the mistake, and Louis was surprised. Then Simon quickly clarified it was so it'd look more natural.

Apparently Zayn had agreed to come too, Which Louis was told by Simon as he was leaving his house earlier. It wasn't unexpected, since he did agree to have the band reunite, and he was reconnecting with Louis, could even be considered a friend now. But to get back to how they were, if they ever do; it will take a while.

Just as it will take some time and patience for the awkwardness between Harry and Louis to subside into a decent amount of comfortability.

Lucky for him, Harry's concert was close by to the airport for the usual 'close-by' standard, concert-wise, so it only took fifteen minutes to drive there.

It had only been a few hours, and he already felt miserable. Louis had slept on the ride and when offered water by his escort, he choked on it. Yes, he was still embarrassed.

They were currently making their way up a flight of stairs at the back of the arena, feet slapping loud enough to irritate Louis further.

Once they reached the metal doors, Louis pulled it open without even holding it for his security guard who was tagging along behind him. He stepped through the narrow doorway and advanced down the narrow beige halls. His palms were slick and unnaturally warm, so he rubbed them against his joggers in hopes that would reduce the sweating. Which it didn't.

Where they made their way over to, black drama curtains were swept and tied to the side, the dark and seemingly rubbery floors dirtied with bits of paper and countless wires.

They were in dire need of a broom, Louis thought.

He and his escort were stopped by a producer at the edge of the stage entrance. The person had a clipboard in hand, round glasses and a black headset, his blond hair damp with sweat and the humidity of the stadium- even though there was a fan back here, all the body heat coming from beyond the inviting side-stage summed up to a very hot summer day, ones perfect for jumping into an icy lake, a fantasy Louis was dreaming of because _jesus christ,_ this place was scorching. How did the crew and band stand it?

The young man was ordering crew members around, talking about light settings, sound amplifiers, and _no Tim, you cannot put your coffee on the floor- remember last time?_ Overall he looked extremely busy and exhausted, but of course when he saw Louis all that changed.

His thin-lipped expression melted into a surprised smile, teeth shining, eyes wide. "Mr. Tomlinson! I didn't know you'd be coming! ...Are you here to see Mr. Styles?"

That was odd. He figured Simon would have called the backstage staff of their meeting- he did for the security, at least, it was how he had gotten into the arena in the first place.

Louis knew exactly how to act, years of practice and experience burned into his brain. He played a smile and relaxed his shoulders, feigning the exact opposite feeling he was entertaining at that time- and place. "I'm here to see the show and meet with _Harry_ , yes."

"Wonderful!" _Chippy idiot._ "I can ask Mr. Styles to meet with you after the performance, it is just about to start."

" _Harry_ has already been informed, as have the security guards and pretty much everyone except you and the back crew here." Louis said. "The lads will also be here, in case you were wondering, if you'd like to know more you can talk to someone that isn't me."

The guys smile never faded, although now it seemed mixed with mild malice which is not something new for Louis to see. In fact, when he saw that in peoples faces when he said something specifically sassy or rude, it just made him want to flip them off even more. But, as Louis is such a nice person, he refrains from doing so, and instead his feigned smile turns into a smirk.

"Of course."

And Louis would have said some form of thanks, but he felt the atmosphere change almost an instant before the lights turned dark onstage, and the producer (who Louis now decided to call Peppa until further renaming) was once again checking over every detail, ensuring that this show went perfectly.

Louis stood over to the side, uncomfortable until he felt the blast of music vibrating his bones, turning his chest into a cave.

The crowds' screams were syncing in Louis' ears, and the reality that he was about to witness a stage performance, no less with _Harry_ the one singing, hit him at once and took a few seconds to absorb.

Peppa came back over and looked at Louis as Louis squirmed a bit.

"Here take a seat, this will be a long one," Peppa waved a hand at a black and unidentifiable piece of equipment. "Do you need anything, like some water or tea?"

"I'm going to sit here the whole show?"

"No just for now. Sit sit," Peppa answered.

He sat down, saying, "I think just some water." while bending his knees awkwardly, feeling very much like a kindergartener.

Peppa nodded and pointed to a water dispenser deeper in from where he came, against the beige wall.

So he'd have to get it himself then, huh.

He wasn't thirsty anymore.

At that exact moment, he saw Liam in the dark area ahead where Peppa stood, currently talking to him. Louis refrains from shouting out to catch his attention, alternatively waiting alertly, eyes trained on Liam.

Liam smiles, as if thanking the guy, and turns around. He spots Louis and goofily grins. Louis stands and grins back, walking over to him while saying "How's it going Payno!"

Out of all the band members, Louis kept in touch with Liam the most. Not just texting and visits, but venting about his life problems and seeking advice.

Niall listens, and he cracks jokes, but for the most part just agrees with what Liam says. And Liam knows a lot more about his relationship with Harry -from Louis' point of view- in the group. There was just something so trusting about him. Plus, the advice Liam gave was typically decent and effective- same as his reassurance.

Nialls way to help Louis deal with his shit is getting them piss drunk and stoned, then singing Dancing Queen on the kitchen table in only his boxers, a pizza or pogo hanging loosly in his hand, and Louis singing some sort of sailor song or ending up passed out and woken up in the morning to the hour loop of crab rave blasting on his TV, a descendent of something much, much worse that started the spiral of 'coming next' YouTube videos.

Most of the time Louis ends up taking both of the different help offers.

Which means Liam is trying to speak in a Shakespeare length, while Niall is either three quarters dead on the pool table, inside a cuboard and staring into the darkness acting like a Vampire, sobbing over chicken wings or playing his annoying guitar while hopping around, occasionally suggesting they get drunk. Which they already were.

So meeting Liam is not this big thing, in fact they watched The Hunger Games with Niall last week, who halfway through left mysteriously, showing up forty minutes later with Zayn, who was proggressively being accepted back into Louis' friend zone, after completely stepping out when he left the band and said everything he did in those interviews.

Those four have reconnected, even if slowly and with hesitance. The only one who has completely cut themselves off from the band is Harry. Ever since February.

Liam smiling at him, eyes crinkled and brown hair waved over his forehead, features at ease and tension gone from his shoulders, did not hit Louis like a transpo, as Harry's presence sure would. If Harry even showed his face. He could still back down, and refuse to reconnect with them.

Louis didn't know if he wished Harry'd stay, but the thought Harry would be gone from his life forever refused to be considerable in his mind.

He was anxious, is all.

"I'm doin' alright, yeah, but man I am boiling in here!" Liam complained, shaking his shirt to get airflow.

Louis made a noise of agreement.

Did Harry even want to see him? How painful would this be- enough to lure sobs, or enough to lure slit wrists? They split only four months ago for goodness sake! Even though it's bee a stretching and torturous two months, Louis still needed time to heal after their breakup, Harry does too, right? Or has he moved on.

Louis doubts that.

Every time he listens to Harry's music, or watches an interview, he can see, hear, _feel_ how much pain he is in. Louis may be a masochist, but he is still horrendusly ashamed of himself for not fighting back the management in February. And then _Eleanor._

"So where're we sitting?" Liam asks.

Louis feels caught in a web. "I don't know, hold on I can ask."

Louis went in search for Peppa. Liam greeted Niall, who had just walked in with Zayn flanked his right.

five minutes later, greetings passed, they were entering the VIP box with Liam leaning against Niall while laughing their asses off. Louis took the head of the pack, leading them through the crowd and into their spots.

"You good to see Harry?" Zayn asks quietly. Niall and Liam are talking to each other, and Louis and Zayn were left in silence while sitting down in the VIP box.

Louis sighs. Zayn has reconnected with him, and answering personal questions like these aren't really intruding. But he still hesitates, pondering if he should answer the 0 temperature 'I don't know'.

He looks at the dark stage where Harry will appear in a matter of minutes, nestling into the chair more. Liam and Niall are half-listening now, which does make the silence less awkward.

"I... I don't... no, not- not really. I mean, we haven't seen each other since February... and when we last did it was..."

"Painful?" Liam suggests, leaning forewards to see Louis past Niall and Zayn, who are all lined at Louis' left.

"Yes, and we split up, it was horrible, just horrible, you know?"

The boys nod sympathetically.

Then the lights dim, and the crowd roars.

Harry Styles walks onstage.

Louis feels his body slam into concrete water.


	5. ~ch. 4~

When you are faced with the one person that haunts your memories, the ones that used to be vibrant and joyous books but are left in the closet and dusted, you're going to swear provocatively and fall out of your chair. It's only natural.

"You alright mate?" Liam asks, and Louis grabs Zayns extended hand to help him up.

"Fine," he grumbles.

The noise in the stadium increased as music started to play. Louis' head was buzzing so he couldn't identify it yet.

Niall was chuckling. "First time you see Harry you fall out of the chair." He claps his hands and laughs loudly. "Classic!"

"Lad," Louis snaps, grabbing Nialls attention. The rising music of Only Angel was increasing his anxiety, and lowering his patience. "Shut up."

Niall scoffs. "Simp."

Louis wrinkles his nose. "What the hell is that?"

"Noob."

Liam sighs. "He's been gaming. So have I. So if our vocabulistics are weird, you got your reason."

Zayns eyebrows raised.

"Are you high?" Louis asks scornfully. What the hell so wrong with these boys?

"Maybe a little tipsy," Niall says and Liam agrees with him.

Zayn avoids eye contact.

"Harry's wearing a onesie," Liam comments. "A sparkly one at that." 

Louis feels attacked. "And?"

"Nothing, just I saw that in a kids store just bigger size. He does look great in it though."

Zayn agreed. "It has to do with confidence, I think. Remember when we went through training-" the boys cringed "-And they taught—"

"Told, more like."

"-told us that if we were confident no one would like, poke fun at our choice of wardrobe. He seems to have mastered that."

Louis opens his mouth to reply-

" _Hey Hey!_ "

°.°.°.°

Five minutes later, Louis is shaking from head to toe.

His voice ate up all sensible thoughts, and destroyed the inch of calmness he had before the performance.

His voice was honey, it was smooth and languid and flickered like waves at all the right moments.

His voice was perfect.

He was perfect.

Louis grieved it.

Niall was commenting on his amazing singing, Liam on his dance moves, and Zayn left halfway through to get chips or something- Louis was infatuated with the Harry that Zayns voice sounded like a slob.

Harry is talking to the crowd. 

Louis' throat has a rock in it as he tries to speak. "Lads?" He asks hoarsely.

"Yeah?" Liam says, Niall turning to him a second later.

"How do I." He couldn't finish. He was choked by the rock.

Liam's eyes softened and he put a hand on Louis' arm. "How do you what mate?"

"Apologize."

Liam's left cheek lifted sympathetically, his mouth pinched. "I don't know, Louis. Just..."

"Give it time, Harry'll come 'round eventually." Niall finishes.

"He'll have to." Liam sighs.

It's a tight spot they're put in. To impress the cameras and management, everything will need to be designed into fake friendliness.

That means not jumping away At touches, smiling _constantly_ , and why is Louis doing this again?

Zayn walks back in with a shiny bag.

"Chips?" Niall queries, seemingly innocent, but Louis saw past his act. He wanted the food.

"Yeah."

Zayn popped one into his mouth.

Nialls eyes widened. "Ruffles?" He whispered.

"All dressed."

"Give."

He scoffed. "No."

Niall being denied of food is not someone you want to deal with. His awed expression turned dark, and he sniffed arrogantly, looking away.

Liam glances at Zayn, ignoring Niall's childish behaviour like the rest of them.

"Can I have some?"

Zayn extends the bag. "Sure."

Louis was grateful for the excuse to distract from the angel that danced on the stage, but now Kiwi was starting to play. During the song, the other three idiots were talking about how they'd make their presence a rumour. 

"We could Naruto run across the stage, but wearing a disguise," Liam suggests. 

Niall starts to laugh. "So we'd just be like" he makes a zooming noise and stands from his seat, kind of doing a Naruto run around their chairs, but there was equipment up there so it was difficult. 

"What about, what about we like sing something with him," Zayn says. 

"What do you think me screaming out the lyrics to Only Angel was?" Liam jokes. Then he asks, "What do you mean by that? _Elaborate."_

"Well like, if we got a microphone, and sang with him- our parts of Rock Me, and then the fans might hear us." 

"How do you know we're singing Rock Me?" Louis asks with a frown. 

"I looked at the sheet they gave me." 

What? 

"I wasn't given a sheet," Louis explains, and Zayn's face morphs into understanding. 

"Sounds like a pretty good idea, we can try it," Liam says, "But we don't have any microphones." 

Zayn looks around, the spots a box in the corner and goes to it. He looks inside for a second before pulling out two headset mics. "Here." He hands one to Liam. 

"We have to share?" 

Zayn looks back at Louis and out of nowhere another mic appeared in his hand. He gave it to Louis and sat back down beside Niall. Louis unfolded it and put it on. 

"So I don't get one?" 

"I'm--" Liam stops and slaps his hand over his mouth. He accidentally spoke into the mic. Once he pushes it away from his face he lets out a guilty chuckle. "Whoops. Anyway Nialler, if you looked around some more there might be something else." 

After five minutes of searching and the next song, sunflower vol. 6, all four of them had a mic. They discussed their plans, and Liam kept mentioning wanting to sing a song with the four of them and record it shakily. They debated over whether that was too much until the song was done and Harry was talking about the next song, which Zayn clarified was Rock Me. 

The begginig of it started to play, and the four of them had to pay attention because the lyrics went by fast. 

The second pre-chorus, _'I used to think that I was better alone"_ Liam sang the back part to it, _"Better alone."_ The next lyric, Niall sang the back part, _"Let you go."_ The next, _"Stare to the sea"_ Louis sang, and then a few Rock Mes later, Zayn sang all the, _"Rock me, yeah"._

Of course, the fans were screaming the lyrics, so their words were a lot quieter than they thought. 

Louis caught a glimpse of Harry's confused face, and smiled to himself, because he looked really cute with his lips puckered and eyebrows drawn together. 

_"Just stop your crying, it's a sign of the times"_

Louis always got the chills in the first line.

The next one was dripping with sorrow, almost too much for Louis to handle.

 _"Welcome to the final show_  
 _Hope you're wearing you're best clothes_  
Y _ou can't bribe the door on the way to the sky"_

It became too much.

_"You look pretty good down here_   
_B_ _ut you ain't really good"_

He stood quickly, but Zayn grabbed his wrist. Louis didn't pull it away, as Zayn did something surprising. He got up with Louis, saying something to Niall who just nodded his head and glanced at the two of them. He let go of Louis' wrist, putting a hand on his back of guide him out of the box instead. 

———

**Harry's POV**

The song Only Angel fades out, and Harry walks to the center, looking around the stadium.

"How're we feeling tonight London?"

The adrenaline coursing through Harrys body vibrates in excitement when he overlooked the crowd. The girls screaming, his throat burning but in a pleasurable way, heart beating wildly.

"Good, I hope. I'm doing fantastic!" Lies. Harry pauses. "I've been staying at this uh, this hotel about 30 minutes away, and right before the show I switched to another spot." His smile grows as he thinks of what he did. "I took the shampoo."

He laughs. "I'm only human, only human."

A fan screams _"no you're a god!"_

"I'm a god?" He inquired, and sees the fan laugh, nodding.

Harry looks up grinning guiltily. "I _am_ a god. Thank you." He chuckles and quickly adds, "Alright, this next song is from my latest album, Fine Line," The crowd screams. Harry chuckles. "That isn't the song, just the album, the song I'm singing. This is Sign Of The Times."

He kicks into the first verse with gusto, powering his way through two other lyrics. He glanced at the VIP box so many times it was abnormal, but he couldn't see anyone in it. With every passing second, he got more and more nervous. Weren't they supposed to be here? Or did they back out. Who does 'they' entail?

The box was right behind a lighting beam so no reflective light could bounce into it, and it was completely dark.

Then there was a flash when the green lights onstage flickered vibrantly and the tiny box in the distance glowed up to show at least two heads.

Instead of that bating his anxiety, it skyrocketed out of the arena.

They were here. And he was going to see them after the show.

While the afore music was playing he rushed to take a long drink. His hand was vaguely shaking, and to try and get rid of his nerves he did a little dance walking back to the microphone.

It was only the first few lines in the next song when a movement caught his eye. Someone in the box had gotten up.

Harry's heart sank.

So they weren't going to stay.

They would leave... again.

 _Stupid,_ he told himself. Hardening. _You pushed them away. Your fault._

He still missed his friends though.

Maybe they wouldn't leave? Could they stay? 

Harry put all his emotions into his voice. Singing is his output now.

His next song, the last of the show is Canyon Moon.

He decided to shake it up.

_"Staring at the ceiling_   
_f_ _our_ _weeks and I'll be home_

_Carry the feeling_   
_T_ _hrough Paris, all through Rome"_

And he did a little happy dance. Someone threw something at him and he dodged it, popping back up and glancing at the same box that held his attention the entire performance.

It was too dark still.

Multiple swear words ran through his head, and he almost dropped the F bomb while singing.

Yikes.

_Focus, idiot._

He had endearing nicknames for himself.

_Deal with them, later._

Them.

Lovely.

He couldn't wait.


End file.
